BLOG POSTSCRIPTS

(Haha. Incurable, see!)

 

Cap’n Truscott?  It Could Have Been!

 

My SICK WORLD swipe below at CornwallLive - and pretty much the whole online “news” scene these days – set me thinking once again: if that was the scene back in the mid-1960s, would I still have wanted a career in journalism.

 

The answer – of course - is a resounding NO.  I’d much prefer the old-school journalism real thing, thank you very much.

 

But what would I have done instead? Well, I guess I would have pursued  my earlier ambition as a Merchant Navy deck officer (and, who knows, maybe the sort of life David Barnicoat now regularly recalls with such passion).  

 

But first I would have had to secure the necessary qualifications.

 

And these would have included a GCE O Level pass at Mathematics.

 

Which would have meant re-taking that exam again and again and again . . . and again . . . and then again . . .  

 

Cosy Gylly Glow

 

Enjoyed one of my occasional freezing-cold swims at Falmouth’s Gyllyngvase Beach the other day, just to keep my winter oar in, so to speak. (Roll on the spring, when that becomes the default setting at dawn once more). 

 

Couldn’t help noticing a new feature – a roaring fire at the heart of a  group of Gylly swimmers who congregate on that beach every day for their dip, all year round.

 

It was probably illegal (NO FIRES, NO THIS, NO THAT, NO ANYTHING ELSE, as the sign greets, or used to greet, all users of the beach).

 

But hey, who cares? I’m sure these swimmers are a responsible lot, and it didn’t half give off a cosy glow on a grey, damp December morning.

 

It also reminded me of another delight I’m looking forward to. A birthday treat from/with my daughter Lisa – as her guest for the recently established sauna facility at Gylly.

 

You know the thing – burn yourself to a crisp inside that black hut and then dash down to the sea (yipes, tide could be right out!) and plunge into the icy briny.

 

Again and again and again . . . and again . . . and then again . . .